


One of these days

by diagonfloo



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-17
Updated: 2014-01-17
Packaged: 2018-01-09 01:59:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1140111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diagonfloo/pseuds/diagonfloo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>HP/DM SLASH. When Andromeda dies, Harry suddenly finds himself taking care of Teddy Lupin. That wasn’t exactly what he’d been planning...</p>
            </blockquote>





	One of these days

**Author's Note:**

> This story is told non-linear. It’s written in first person, from Harry’s perspective. Who’s a bit of an idiot actually…

**Saturday February 21 st 2004**

 It’s typical, isn’t it. Finally, _finally_ , my life was going to be my own. I mean, I did what I was supposed to do, have done for pretty much all my life really. I’ve fulfilled their fucking prophecy, saved the bloody wizarding world, done the whole Auror bit as was expected of me. This year was going to be for _me_.

 I indulge in no more than 5 minutes of feeling sorry for myself before shaking myself out of it. Because once again, this isn’t about me. I look down at the small boy cradled in my arms, fast asleep. I sigh and stroke the messy dark hair that’s been mirroring mine since the beginning of this hellish week. Teddy mumbles something incoherent in his sleep, scrunches up his little nose, wriggles a bit closer and sleeps on.

 I can’t help but smile. I do love my godson, so much. Yes, his coming to live with me will severely fuck up my plans with… Well, best not to go there right now. The truth of it is that I adore this little boy and to have him with me full time will be more than ok. He needs me, and that’s the end of that. I know what it’s like to grow up in a house filled with people that don’t want you. It won’t be like that for Teddy, I’ll see to that.

 I press a kiss on top of Teddy’s head. I feel a little tug at my heart as I watch the soft features of his face, so like his father. Merlin I miss him. And Tonks. They would have made brilliant parents, I’m sure of it. And now, all their son is left with, is me. 

 It isn’t right. It’s not. But it’s the way it is.

 

* * *

 

**Monday February 16 th 2004**

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ I ask her.

 I try and keep the accusation out of my question, I really do. But Andromeda winces all the same.

 ‘I’m sorry Harry,’ she says softly. ‘I’m so sorry to have to do this to you. I guess… I just hoped it wouldn’t come to this. Hoped they’d be able to cure me, or at least keep me healthy for long enough so you wouldn’t have to deal with this for years yet’.

 She sighs and shakes her head. Even that tiny movement and those few words seem to have tired her out. I feel a pang of guilt as I place a gentle hand on her frail wrist and try and reassure her. 

 ‘Don’t worry about that. It doesn’t matter. I just wish I could have been there for you more, you know?’

 It takes a while for Andromeda to respond, and when she finally does, it’s with nothing more than a small nod. She must be exhausted. I turn toward the healer who has been discretely hovering in a corner since I’ve entered Andromeda’s room at St Mungo’s. 

 ‘How long?’ I ask her.

 The healer hesitates, looks at Andromeda before answering.

 ‘Not long now Mr Potter. Mrs Tonks’ health has deteriorated rapidly I’m afraid. We’ve given her some potions that will keep her lucid for another hour or so, but that’s about as much as we can do. I’m so sorry Mr Potter, we did try but…’

 I nod impatiently. I have no time for her excuses right now, not when there’s so little time to be had.

 ‘Where’s Teddy?’ I ask Andromeda. ‘Does he know?’

 ‘Yes,’ she says.’ I had to tell him this morning, couldn’t put it off any longer. Molly offered to take him to the Burrow for the day and I thought it best he went. This is no place for a five year old’.

 I take her hand in mine and shift back in my chair to get more comfortable. She looks at me, puzzled.

 ‘What?’ I ask.

 ‘Shouldn’t you be heading over there? To the Burrow?’ she asks.

 I smile at her. 

 ‘I will. Later,’ I answer.

 There’s no need to explain any further. I’m not leaving her, not now. If Teddy is with Mrs Weasley he’s fine for now. I’ll deal with all that later. Now, I want to be here for Andromeda while I can. She smiles at me gratefully and squeezes my hand.

 I don’t watch the clock, but I feel like I can hear it ticking away in my head, counting down the minutes she has left. At first, we talk a bit. She tells me about Teddy’s favourite foods and how he likes to wiggle out of bedtime but when his head hits the pillow, he’s asleep in an instant. She tells me about his friend Charlotte who lives next door and how they love to run around the neighbourhood park. Of course I know all this, seeing as I visit with Teddy almost every other week and he’s spent the night at my house several times. But she needs to tell me and I don’t mind hearing it. 

 It’s much too soon that she falls silent. I look at her as she lies there with her eyes closed, her face so pale, her body still, it’s almost like she’s gone already. But the soft rising and falling of her chest and the lack of any alarm spells going off, tell me otherwise.

 The healer steps up to the bed and casts the routine spells that will tell her if anything has changed. I look at her questioningly. She shakes her head at me and says: ‘She’s slipped a bit further that’s all. It won’t be long now’.

 ‘Is she in any pain?’ I ask.

 That’s what I’m worried about most. She’s so unbelievably strong, has been for as long as I’ve known her. But now she looks so delicate, so old, frail… Like the slightest breath of wind could be the end of her. And there’s nothing I can do to save her from this. So I need to know that at least she’s not in pain.

 ‘No,’ the healer is quick to reassure me. ‘Not since she first got hit with the curse, sometime during the war. She’s been taking potions to minimalise the progress of the curse and to dull the pain. At this point, there should be no pain at all’.

 I stay with her until the end. I don’t know what to expect really. I’ve seen so many deaths, but all of them have been in some sort of battle, violent, the result of a quick and lethal curse. Nothing like this, this unknown festering curse, that has left nothing but a shadow of the person Andromeda once was.

 I don’t know how I missed what was happening to her. The healer assures me that Andromeda is very adept at glamours, that she didn’t want Teddy, me, or anyone else to know. But she _had_ been more quiet lately, withdrawn almost. I should have paid more attention. I should have. But I suppose I was too preoccupied to notice. 

 

* * *

**Saturday April 3 rd 2004**

‘But you said I could pick out anything I wanted’.

 Teddy’s bottom lip quivers dangerously and his eyes suddenly look suspiciously moist. Oh crap. I did say that, didn’t I. I sigh heavily and make one more attempt to salvage the situation.

 ‘Well yes Teddy, I did say that you could pick out something for your birthday. But I was actually thinking about something from that new magical toyshop over there?’

 I point at the lavishly decorated window of “Millicent’s Magnificent Marbles and More”, hoping to tempt him with the sight of the colourful toys on display. 

 His hair, a vibrant pink only moments ago, has morphed into a dullish brown colour and his little shoulders slump. 

 ‘It’s ok Uncle Harry. I just thought a pet would be kind of cool. But you know, I’m sure I can find a toy I like,’ he says bravely.

 It breaks my heart to see him accept yet another disappointment in his short life with such resignation. Like hell am I going to be responsible for that, when this trip was supposed to make him feel better, not worse. I grab Teddy’s hand and shake my head.

 ‘No Teddy, it’s fine. Of course you can have a pet,’ I tell him cheerfully while leading him to “Magical Menagerie”.

 ‘Really?’ Teddy asks. His hair flashes back to the brightest of pink and all traces of his misery are gone in excited anticipation over his future pet. I wish all sorrows could be dissolved that easily.

 Suddenly feeling a lot more optimistic about this whole pet thing, I open the door and step into the shop. Once inside, Teddy tugs his hand free and is off to check out the nest of kneazles by the counter. Great. With my luck, it’ll have Crookshanks’ temper. Oh well, at least Hermione is sure to like it.

 Sensing this might take a while I wander off and check out the different species for sale. There are some rats in the corner, very much like the ones Ron and I looked at all those years ago. Some of them are playing tag, but they take the time to stand up on their hind legs and wave at me as I walk past their cage. They look nice and everything, but to me they still look like they’re showing off.

 ‘Sorry boys, you won’t have any luck with me,’ I mumble, moving on.

 Merlin it’s strange considering buying a pet. I’ve not had one since Hedwig died. I’ve bought another owl of course, but I’d never consider Horatio a pet. He’s a highly efficient owl, I’ll give him that, but mostly he keeps to himself. He prefers to keep to the outdoors, only coming into the house when he senses he’s needed to deliver a letter or parcel. And that works fine for me.

 So, what pet will it be? A quick glance in Teddy’s direction learns that he’s moved on from the nest of kneazles and is now playing with a couple of crups, both of them wagging their forked tails something fierce. Teddy’s giggles are infectious and I chuckle softly as the one with the white spotted  ear tries to lick Teddy’s face.

  _‘… so pretty… so beautiful am I… gorgeous… ssssstunning, yesssss….’_

_‘…too bright…can’t sleep…aaaaah yes, better now…’_

_‘… new people are interesting… seem nice…come closer?’_

 My eyes search and find the source of that last voice. I smile and step closer to the glass tank, bending my knees to come face to face with a very colourfully striped little snake.

  _‘Hello there. Were you talking to me?’_ I ask.

 The parseltongue feels rather strange after all this time, the words coming a bit hesitantly at first, but soon the feeling of the language comes back to me.

  _‘It speaks!’_ the little snake squeaks excitedly. _‘I’ve never seen one that spoke before. Fabulous. Say something else, please?’_

 The little snake has pressed itself close to the glass and is looking at me with anticipation. I laugh, the first genuine laugh in months. It feels good.

  _‘Alright. My name is Harry Potter. What’s yours?’_ I ask. The words come more easily now, and I’m actually enjoying our little conversation.

  _‘Name?’_ the little snake says, sounding a bit puzzled. _‘I don’t think I have one of those. They say you get one once one of the people take you home. Will you take me home?’_

 The snake looks very hopeful now. His head pretty much stays in place, but the rest of his body is weaving back and forth, curling and uncurling in constant movement. The sight is slightly hypnotic. 

 ‘Uncle Harry? Were you… were you _talking_ to that _snake_?’ Teddy asks.

 I hadn’t heard him approaching. I look at him and nod, the look of awe on his face making me feel ridiculously pleased.

 ‘Yeah, yeah I was. We were just getting to know each other,’ I say. ‘Would you like me to introduce you?’

 Teddy’s eyes are huge and a bright blue. His mouth is slightly gaping as he nods.

 ‘Alright,’ I say. Switching to parseltongue, I continue: ‘ _Little snake, this here is Teddy’_.

  _‘Not little_ ,’ the snake says, sounding a bit miffed. Then he turns to face Teddy and says: ‘ _Hello Teddy. I like your hair_ ’.

 As he says it, the yellow stripes that run over the length of his body turn a bright pink to match Teddy’s hair. Teddy gasps delightedly.

 ‘Did you see that Uncle Harry? Did you _see_? That snake is like me!’ he cries out. He rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet. 

 My heart warms at seeing him this excited. He’s been so sad lately, subdued, making him look both smaller and older than he really is. Now, he looks like any normal five – almost six year old, happy and carefree. I’ve missed that little boy so much, and this small snake has brought him back for at least a little while. Right then and there, I decide I want more.

 ‘He says hello and that he likes your hair,’ I tell Teddy.

 ‘You do?’ Teddy asks, addressing the little snake eagerly. ‘Well, I like your stripes too’.

 Teddy scrunches up his eyes and nose in concentration and his pink hair now has perfectly straight black stripes running through it. The little snake hisses enthusiastically and starts weaving his body back and forth in quick, fluent motions.

  _‘Ooooh, I like this one!’_ the snake says. 

 ‘Uncle Harry, can I take him home? Please Uncle Harry? Please…’

 The huge, pleading blue eyes melt any resistance I might have still felt. Which, in all honesty, is very little. I mean, as pets go, the little snake seems alright. And if it makes Teddy this happy, I’m all for it.

  Fifteen minutes later we’re leaving the shop with a brand new shrunken down glass tank, complete with everything a snake owner might ever need, including a manual named “How to care for my ribbon snake”. Because apparently, that’s what the still nameless little snake, now tucked safely in my breast pocket with only his head peeking out, is. A magical ribbon snake of course, since I doubt the Muggle variety can change its colouring at will. 

 Teddy keeps a constant chatter up, asks me to translate countless questions for him like “What’s your favourite colour?” and “Are you afraid of the dark?”. That last question is followed by quick assurances not to worry, because “uncle Harry” will leave a light on when requested.

 We make a quick stop at Fortescue’s, pretty much mandatory when visiting Diagon Alley with any child, and then head home. Or that was the plan at least. But of course _this_ is the moment the inevitable happens. The first time I’ve run in to him in almost two months, and I’m sporting chocolate smears all over my shirt. Typical. I glare at my melting ice cream cone accusingly.

 ‘Harry’.

 I sigh and face him. Merlin, why does he always have to look so… perfect?

 ‘Hello Draco,’ I say quietly. 

 

* * *

**Thursday January 1 st 2004**

 

‘Potter? What on earth are you doing here?’ Draco asks me.

And yes, it’s Draco, has been for a couple of months now. Well, it has been in my head anyway. I mean, it was Malfoy all through Hogwarts and beyond, for obvious reasons. Not that I saw much of him after the war, not until Hermione started insisting on bringing him to Friday night drinks that is. _She_ called him Draco though, I think pretty much from the first day they became colleagues at the Ministry. 

‘Hi… Draco. Mind if I come in for a moment?’ I ask.

Well. Apparently it’s Draco out loud for me now too. I take a deep breath and bravely look him in the eye. God he’s beautiful. He’s probably on his way out, dressed way too formally for a day of lounging around the house. The elegant black robes look stunning on him, in such stark contrast with the pale skin and hair. 

The mention of his given name has clearly startled him a little, but he recovers fast.

‘Very well. Come in,’ he says, stepping aside to let me pass.

So far, so good. I follow him as he leads the way through the Manor’s stately hall. This is the first time I’ve been back here since the war. I thought it would be more difficult. This doesn’t feel like the same place where Hermione was tortured and Luna was kept prisoner. I mean, it looks familiar, with  the same portraits hanging on the walls, the same high ceiling with the enormous chandeliers and the massive marble staircase. But the atmosphere of doom and gloom has been lifted, which simply makes all the difference. I breathe a sigh of relief. Good. I can do this.

Draco ushers me into a smallish room, decorated in rich colours, heavy fabrics and comfortable looking furniture. I settle down on one of the sofas and wait for Draco to finish his request for some tea and biscuits to one of the Malfoy Elves. A silver tray filled with a fine bone china tea service, a platter of some delicate looking cakes and some dainty sandwiches appear within seconds. I accept a cup, grateful for something to do with my hands, and stir in two lumps of sugar and a generous splash of milk. 

‘Are you going to tell me why you’re here?’ Draco asks.

One eyebrow is raised questioningly as he waits patiently for me to respond. Alright. No small talk, just get straight to the point. Being blunt is no small talent of mine, so I decide to dive right in.

‘Look Draco, it’s the first of January today, and I thought I should start the new year as I mean it to go on. I’ve decided I’ve done enough living and working for everyone else and I should fucking well start enjoying life for a change. And I think I’d enjoy going out on a date with you. Enjoy it quite a lot actually. So how about it?’

A stunned silence follows my words, a silence that seems to stretch on forever. Draco hesitates. Clears his throat. He shifts uncomfortably in his chair.

‘Excuse me?’ he says finally.

I smile, having expected the surprise and perhaps even disbelief. 

‘You heard me,’ I say boldly. ‘I asked you to go out with me some time. I was thinking about tomorrow night. Are you busy?’

His mouth is slightly gaping and his eyes are almost comically wide. Again he clears his throat.

‘No,’ he says, carefully.

A pang of disappointment captures me. I guess I should have expected this. I mean, it’s not like I don’t know what a bloody catch he is, he probably has dozens of witches and wizards lining up to go on a date with him. What was I thinking? I’ve seen the articles in the Prophet, seen the photos of him gallivanting around town with this witch on his arm one week, that wizard on his arm the other. What on earth was I thinking??

But then I look at him and realise, he’s just answering my question about not being busy. He hasn’t said no to the date thing. Yet. A thrill of exhilaration rushes through me as hopes come backto me  in full force. 

‘Oh,’ is about all I can come up with. ‘Well, how about dinner at “Le Chateau Blanc” then, around eight-ish?’ 

 

* * *

**Saturday April 10 th 2004**

 ‘Looks like Teddy’s enjoying himself’.

 I turn around and smile at Ron and Hermione. They’ve joined me in the kitchen, escaping the birthday madness for just a moment.

 ‘It does,’ Ron agrees. ‘You did a great job mate’.

 ‘Absolutely. And the house looks amazing. Very festive’, Hermione ads.

 ‘Thanks guys. I’m just sorry there aren’t that many other children here for Teddy to play with. None of us have kids, not yet, well except for Parvati, but Isha is still only a baby,’ I say.

 ‘Teddy seemed fairly taken with her anyway,’ Ron says. ‘And with little Victoire as well’.

 Hermione nods in agreement.

 In truth, Teddy has been getting on with everyone today, his hair constantly changing from one bright colour to the next. At one point it was almost fluorescent. He’s been running around with William mostly, the son of Helen, one of my former Auror colleagues. I’m glad I thought to invite them today.

 The party has been going for hours now, the house filled with guests all seeming to have a good time. I’m glad I decided to go ahead with the party. I wasn’t sure Teddy would be up to it, but he’s been beaming all day. 

 I look up in confusion as I hear the wards chime, signalling a new arrival. Who could that be? I do a quick mental check… yes, everyone is present and accounted for.

 ‘Want me to get that mate?’ Ron asks.

 I shake my head and gesture for him and Hermione to stay where they are.

 ‘No, that’s ok,’ I assure them. ‘I’ll just see who it is and be right back’.

 I head toward the front door and see that Teddy has beaten me to it. I freeze on the spot as I realise just who it is standing on my doorstep.

 ‘… if that’s ok?’ I hear Draco ask Teddy. 

 I have no idea what he’s just asked, but Teddy is nodding excitedly and inviting Draco in before I can say a word. Just then, Teddy spots me watching them.

 ‘Look Uncle Harry, it’s my cousin Draco! He said he just wanted to drop by to give me a present but I told him he should come in and join my party. That’s ok isn’t it?’

 Those last words come out a bit worriedly. I must not have been very successful in hiding my look of dismay. Fuck. Quickly I school my features into a polite smile and tell Draco that of course he can come in. I mean, who cares that it’s breaking my heart seeing him here like this? I should have realised he’s pretty much all the family Teddy has left. _Of course_ Teddy is going to want his cousin at his birthday party. As always, I’m just going to have to deal with it. 

 The rest of the party goes by in a bit of a blur. I have a laugh with Seamus and Neville, moan about the latest poor Quidditch results of the Cannons with several Weasleys, keep an eye on Teddy and William, all the while making sure everyone’s drink is topped up and the food doesn’t run out. Basically, I’m making it my goal to do anything but stare at Draco Malfoy. My success rate? Poor at best so far.

 At least my clothes are clean this time. There is that.

 Around nine the party has dwindled down and most of the guests have left. Hermione and Ron are about to leave as well. For some reason they’ve opted to travel by car instead of floo tonight, so I escort them to where Hermione parked it, just around the corner. When we reach it, I expect them to get in, say their goodbyes and drive off. But they don’t.

 Hermione has that determined look about her, the one she gets when she has something to say and there’s no stopping her. Ron looks more hesitant, a bit awkward, but is looking at me with an equal amount of purpose. Whatever it is they have to say to me, there’s no escaping it.

 Oh hell. Might as well go with it.

 I throw my hands up in mock surrender and say: ‘Alright. Alright. You obviously have something to say to me, so go ahead and spit it out’.

 Hermione opens her mouth as if to speak, but then she seems to change her mind and looks at Ron instead. Ron nods at her, a sure sign they’ve been talking about this, me, in some detail.

 ‘Look mate,’ he says. ‘We both think you’re doing an amazing job with Teddy. Seriously. And of course him coming into your life like that means everything is different now. But…’

 He hesitates, shrugs helplessly and looks at Hermione for support. She picks up on the cue seamlessly and not for the first time, I envy them the apparent effortlessness of their relationship.

 She says: ‘The thing is Harry, we just don’t understand why Draco can’t be part of this new life of yours’. 

 ‘I…’ I start. But then I stop. I don’t know what to say.

 ‘I know you don’t want to talk about this mate,’ Ron presses on, ‘and of course we want to respect your wishes. It’s just that you looked _miserable_ just now. And Malfoy doesn’t look much better’.

 I can feel the pent up anger, the regret, the suppressed grief, try and fight their way to the surface. But I won’t allow it. 

 ‘You’re right,’ I agree. ‘I don’t want to talk about this’.

 Ron closes his eyes in resignation. But Hermione isn’t ready to give up.

 ‘Alright,’ she says. ‘You know we’re only asking because we care about you, right?’

 I smile at her and nod. Yes of course I know that. They step into the car and Ron starts the engine. He’s about to drive off, when Hermione stops him and rolls her window down.

 ‘Just one more thing and then I’ll shut up about it,’ she says. ‘If you don’t want to talk to us, that’s up to you. But you _should_ talk to him you know. Because it’s clear that you haven’t, not really. He deserves better than that. You both do’.

 Before I can reply, they’re driving off and all I can do is wave before I head back into the house. Still pensive, I walk through to the living room and see that Teddy is fast asleep. Fast asleep, and curled up on Draco’s lap like it’s the most natural thing in the world. And perhaps it is.

 This cannot end well. The last of my friends are leaving one by one, until finally it’s just me and him. And Teddy. 

 I swallow hard, pull myself together and go and confront him. Sort of.

 ‘I’ll take him,’ I say. ‘He’s exhausted’.

 Draco looks at me quietly for a moment and then stubbornly shakes his head.

 ‘No,’ he says. ‘He might wake up. Why don’t you let _me_ take him’.

 I want to refuse, want to stand my ground, but I’m guessing that’ll make me look more than a little pathetic. So for now, I give in.

 ‘Fine. Follow me,’ I say.

 He casts a lightening charm on Teddy and gently floats him along with us. I show him Teddy’s room, open the door for him so Draco can lower the boy onto his bed. I lean down to take off his shoes, but decide to leave the clothes. He’ll be fine for tonight. I tuck him in, press a soft kiss to his forehead and smooth the still bright pink hair down with my hand. He looks exhausted, but happy. I smile at him fondly before turning toward the door.

 Draco lingers behind for a moment, and I think I hear him say something, but I can’t make out what. I walk straight over to the front door and wait for him to catch up. When he finally does, I say: ‘Thank you for coming. It meant a lot to Teddy. Good night’.

 On those last words, I open the door and wait for him to leave.

  He doesn’t. He just stands there, like he’s waiting for something. But what? Doesn’t he get it? Doesn’t he understand that I can’t _do_ this anymore? 

 ‘I’ve missed you,’ he finally says.

 His words startle me. I didn’t expect him to say anything, let alone _that_. I rake my hand through my hair and sigh.

 ‘Yeah well… It can’t be helped,’ I respond. I don’t tell him I miss him too. I can’t. It wouldn’t be fair, on either of us. This is my life now, and it’s best for both of us if he learns to accept that. 

 I see a flash of hurt flash through those beautiful grey eyes. I want to reach out, touch him, apologise, but catch myself just in time. 

 When he walks past me and steps out the door, it takes everything I have not to pull him right back. He hesitates for a moment, then turns back to face me. He looks at me pensively, opening his mouth as if to speak, but then closing it again. And just as I think that’s it, he’ll leave, he says: ‘You know that doesn’t make any sense, right? Think about what _you_ want, then think about what _I_ want. _“It can’t be helped?”_ That’s just pathetic Potter’.

 I gape as he walks away from me, not sure what just happened. When he reaches the end of the anti-apparition wards, he turns to me one more time and says: ‘Don’t for a second think I’m giving up on this Harry’.

 I stand there, blinking, long after he’s disapparated. 

 

* * *

  **Saturday January 10 th 2004**

 **'** You were right, the lamb is really good,’ I say.

 ‘Hmm,’ he agrees. ‘Told you’.

 ‘Yeah, I guess you did’.

 I’m not sure what’s wrong. Draco’s being so quiet tonight, only replying with a minimum of words to any question I ask. And he looks fidgety. Uncomfortable. Merlin, I bet he’s regretting this. Clearly he’s not having a good time. My heart sinks as I watch him playing with his food, barely eating a thing. 

 I thought it was going so well. Last week, when we were having drinks at The Lions Head, the Muggle pub I chose for our first date. We had a great time, laughing, talking, him being his snarky self, but not in a bad way. God, not in a bad way at all…

 And then dinner last Saturday, at that fancy place Draco chose, that _definitely_ felt like a date. The talking and laughter was, I don’t know, _softer_ that time, and there was definite touching. Just innocent touching, almost casual, like our knees bumping under the table as if by accident, my hand covering his for a moment when I was trying to convey a particular point. I’ve forgot what the point was, but I vividly remember the feeling of my hand on his, the way he didn’t pull back but gave me a small smile and left his hand right where it was.

 Posh place or not, nothing would have stopped me from leaning over the table and kissing him, right then and there. It was brilliant, just as I knew it would be.

 All I can say is that I thank Merlin I was smart enough giving up reading the Daily Prophet when I did. Because if they didn’t manage to snag a picture of that first kiss, I’m sure they got one of the other ones since then. That very night, when we said goodnight at the apparition point. Hopefully not the one last Wednesday, when we met for lunch. I walked him back to his office and pushed him up against the wall, kissing him until we were both breathless. 

 I thought this was going somewhere, somewhere really, really good. But now I’m not so sure. Could he be having second thoughts already? My heart gives a painful lunge at the mere thought…

 Suddenly he startles me out of my train of thought by clearing his throat. I look up at him expectantly, trying to contain my anxiety until I know for sure I have something to be worried about.

 ‘Would you like to come back to mine for some coffee?’ he asks me.

 I take a sharp breath and look at him closely. His face doesn’t tell me anything, annoyingly neutral as always, although his cheeks do have a bit more colour to them than usual. 

 Perhaps his offer of coffee is just that. It could be. But maybe, just maybe, he’s offering something more. I don’t know that he is. But I do know I want to find out.

 ‘Yes please,’ is all I say.

 ‘Oh,’ he says. ‘Right. Good. Ok. Shall we… go?’

 I could point out that he hasn’t even half finished his plate and that the waiter has only just topped up our glasses. In fact, I open my mouth to do just that, but luckily I bite my tongue in time. I can be _such_ an idiot sometimes.

 ‘Yeah,’ I say instead.

 He looks at me with this small smile and my heart does a little fluttery thing inside my chest. Merlin I’ve fallen hard for this man. He stands up, holding out his hand for me to take. He pulls me out of my seat and guides me to the floo, never letting go of my hand.

 People might be looking at us, I don’t know. I also don’t care. All I’m aware of is his hand on mine and the way he keeps giving me these quick, cautious glances over his shoulder. I don’t even hear the floo address he calls out, I just blindly follow him into the green flames. He pulls me close, and only seconds later, we’re exiting the main fireplace in Malfoy Manor.

 ‘So…’ I try, after my customary stumble out of the floo. 

 Other words are meant to come after that one word, but I can’t think of any. God this is awkward. I force myself to look up from my feet and squint at him from behind my fringe.

 The soft curve of his smile almost stops my heart. Impatient, I push my fringe away from my eyes to get a better look at him.

 I hadn’t noticed the stylish dress robes he’s wearing tonight, complementing his aristocratic features to make him look almost regal. The look is so pristine, that I can’t resist reaching out and stroking the sleeve of his robes. The fabric feels soft and smooth under my fingers. Feeling quite daring, I let my hand slide all the way up past his elbow and back again.

 He doesn’t pull away from me. In fact, the soft smile has intensified somehow, warming his eyes to a deep, pewter grey.

 ‘Beautiful,’ I mutter lamely. I’m not sure if it’s the robes or Draco himself I’m commenting on. Probably both.

 Instead of answering me, he takes a step forward. My heart jumps and my breath speeds up as I realise how very close he’s standing. All I have to do is lean forward, tilt my head back a little bit, and I could be kissing him. I’m shocked at the feel of his lips against mine, didn’t think I’d actually moved. Or maybe he did. Or…

 I stop thinking. I need to concentrate on this feeling, on the touch of his lips, on the way his chest feels against mine. Because I don’t want to miss a second of this. 

 Tentatively, I swipe my tongue over his bottom lip. I’m not sure why, mostly because I want to know what he tastes like. I can feel him hitch his breath, and decide I like that. I like that a lot. Feeling bolder, I slide my arms around his waist and tilt my head while enticing him to open his lips with my tongue. With a little sigh, he complies.

 He tastes as delicious as he smells, all clean and faintly citrusy, with something stronger beneath it that is just pure _Draco_. I shiver as I feel him slip his arms through mine and pull me even closer. We’re touching from our lips to our knees now and I give a little moan to let him know just how much I approve of that. He chuckles softly and spreads his legs a little so I can nudge my thigh between his.

 Oh sweet Merlin this is good. The sound I make when I feel his erection pressed firmly against my hip, is no more than an undignified little whimper. I don’t care. All I can think is how _amazing_ this feels, and that’s while we’re still fully clothed. 

 I don’t think I’ve ever been kissed quite this thoroughly. There’s an electricity in the air that almost makes it crackle, but the movements of his lips and tongue are slow and deliberate. It’s like he’s determined to touch every single spot, to taste it, to remember it always. That thought is slightly intoxicating. 

 I allow him to set the pace, even though a big part of me would like to simply rip off his robes and take him right here, right now. His hands are moving up and down my back in slow movements, sometimes barely skating the surface, sometimes applying more pressure. 

 Meanwhile, my own hands are roaming every piece of him they can reach. As fantastic as he looks in them, I wish he wasn’t wearing these fancy robes now. They make it almost impossible for me to reach some skin. And I need to feel some, so, so badly.

 Going slow is all well and good, but I decide it’s about time we move this along. Reluctantly, I step back from Draco and eye his robes dubiously. It’s clear that there are going to be a lot of tiny buttons involved here, and it’s also clear I’m not going to have the patience or control it will take to unfasten said buttons before I, oh I don’t know, _explode_. So I fish my wand out of my pocket and vanish his robes with a quick and silent “Evanesco”. 

 Draco reacts with no more than a slow blink. He doesn’t seem to mind that he’s now wearing pants only. And why would he, when he looks like _that._ I forget for a moment how desperate I am to touch his skin, because I just have to _look_ first. I’ve thought about him like this, fantasised endlessly about having him naked beneath me. I knew he’d be gorgeous, all pale and slender, but it’s not quite the same as actually _seeing_ him. 

 I don’t even notice him prying my wand from my fingers and vanishing my Muggle suit in turn. It’s the cool air, connecting with my heated skin that alerts me to my nakedness. The smirk he gives me sends a little shiver of delight down my spine.

 ‘Thought I’d even the field a bit,’ he comments semi-casually, raising one of those pale eyebrows in a perfect arch.

 ‘Right,’ is about all I can come up with in reply.

 I’m valiantly fighting the urge to do something ridiculous like try and cross my arms in front of my chest in an attempt at modesty. _Oh fuck it_ , I think as I reach out my hand, grab hold of his arm and pretty much yank him close. I can both hear and feel his breathless laughter as he lets his body collide with mine without protest.

 I’m back to kissing him, a quick burning kiss this time, our tongues darting, twisting and curling together as in an overheated dance. My right hand is buried firmly in his silky blond hair, feeling just as good as I imagined it would. My left hand seems to have sneaked down, slipped beneath the waistband of his pants and is now kneading his arse. That elicits a croaky little groan from Draco, followed by an answering hand down the front of my own pants.

 I jump at the feeling of his hand on my cock and thrust my hips forward enthusiastically. I laugh, for once not worried about anything, just relishing the feeling of Draco, here, with me. Impatiently, I pull my hand back and then grab hold of Draco’s pants and yank them down. He laughs, even harder when I pull mine down as well.

 It’s exhilarating. I’ve never experienced anything like this, this joy, pleasure, excitement, all rolled into one. He strokes me as I stroke him, quick, rough, glorious. There’s breathless laughter, groans of pleasure and desire as we rush to a climax. My knees give as I come and I let myself slip to the floor, pulling Draco down with me. He lets out an indignant kind of yelp, that quickly turns into a moan of approval as I keep stroking him until he comes with a silent shudder.

 

* * *

 

**Sunday April 18 th 2004**

‘Are you _sure_ this is alright?’ I ask again. ‘Only, he’s been begging to be allowed to visit his “Cousin Draco” since the party and…’

 Draco’s look of exasperation effectively silences me.

 ‘Yes, alright, sorry,’ I mumble.

 ‘Just send him through. I’m sure we’ll be fine’,  he says.

 I give a grateful nod and scramble back from the fire. I look around to see an excited Teddy bounce up and down with anticipation. I smile, feeling better about this already. Anything that can make Teddy look this happy is surely worth the potential trouble. Probably.

 ‘Draco says it’s ok if you come over for a visit today. Are you sure you have everything?’ I ask him.

 Teddy nods quickly.

 ‘Yes Uncle Harry. Unless… Would Cousin Draco like me to bring Sky along do you think?’ he asks eagerly.

 I look at the little snake, curled up half in and half out of the water puddle in her tank. Her stripes are her personal favourite: sky-blue and white at the moment, living up to her name perfectly.

  I’m not sure how Draco feels about snakes. Best not chance it for now.

 ‘I don’t know Teddy, she looks pretty comfortable as she is. Let’s just leave her for today, yeah?’ I suggest. ‘Besides, I’ll need the company now won’t I’.

 Teddy nods gravely.

 ‘That’s true. Although I’m sure Cousin Draco would let you come and play at the Manor too if you just asked him,’ he says innocently.

 That comment calls to mind all kinds of unhelpful, inappropriate images and I cough to hide my embarrassment. 

 ‘Perhaps some other time,’ I say.

 I give him a big hug and then send him through the floo.

 After he’s gone, I don’t know what to do with myself. He’s only been living with me for a couple of months, but I’m already so used to his company that I find myself at a loss without him. I wander through the house restlessly, unable to settle. I make a cup of tea, but then I forget all about it until it’s stone cold. I shake my head and poor it down the sink.

 After about an hour, I finally decide that I might as well be productive. I’ve been planning to redecorate the room that is now Teddy’s, but haven’t got any further than the few Quidditch posters spello-taped to the wall and the red duvet with the fluttering snitches on it. I’ve had all the necessary materials on standby for weeks now, I just haven’t got round to actually using them. Until now apparently.

 A couple of hours later, I look round the transformed room and admire the combined effects of my spells and some Muggle handiwork. I think I did alright actually. 

 Not wanting to influence Teddy in his choice of House at Hogwarts prematurely, I’ve opted to go for a different colour for each wall. There’s Gryffindor red of course, but also Ravenclaw blue, Hufflepuff yellow and Slytherin green. I’ve managed to duplicate the Hogwarts crest to go above the headboard of his newly assembled Muggle high sleeper bed. Underneath the bed, there’s a large cupboard with lots of compartments, drawers and boxes to put most of his toys in. Against the other wall is the plain desk with the much coveted swivel chair, which I suspect will be Teddy’s favourite feature of the room.

 I’ve left the wardrobe pretty much as it is, only spruced it up a bit with some fresh paint and new racing broom handles. The Quidditch posters are back on the wall, but now they’ve been framed properly and are hanging in some sort of order.

 I sit down on the floor and try and take in the whole picture. It feels different now somehow, more… permanent. I swallow hard. Before, it was like Teddy was a guest, only staying over for a while, a temporary situation. Now, he’s definitely here to stay. I sit still, close my eyes and examine my feelings. Am I alright with this?

 Immediately, my head is filled with images of a happy Teddy, running around the house, playing with Sky, flashing his hair every colour of the rainbow. _Yes_ , I think _. I am definitely alright with this_. I smile and scramble to my feet, ready to pick Teddy up from Draco’s and show him his new room.

 When I poke my head through the fire, neither Teddy nor Draco is anywhere in sight. Not sure what to do, I hesitate for a moment. That’s when I hear the laughter, recognising it as Teddy’s straight away.

 ‘Teddy?’ I call out.

 I can hear his feet rush nearer before I see him running through the doorway.

 ‘Hi Uncle Harry,’ he greets me.

 ‘Hello Harry. Why don’t you come through for a moment. I’ll make you some coffee’.

 The offer is made quietly, the implication not lost on me. I look up at Draco, who’s wandered in after Teddy at a much more sedate pace. 

 ‘No thank you,’ I say stiffly.

 I suspect I’m being a bit of an arse. My suspicion solidifies as I see Draco bristle. Immediately, I want to apologise.

 ‘Why not?’ Teddy asks, looking more than a little puzzled.

 Why not indeed. With a sense of relief, I remember my afternoon project and grab the excuse eagerly.

 ‘Because I’ve finally done your room,’ I say cheerfully. ‘You want to see it, right?’

 ‘Really? Really Uncle Harry?’ 

 Teddy is looking at me full of a hope that makes me feel ashamed of having waited this long. Again I think of the boy’s parents, and how much more prepared they were than I will ever be. At my nod Teddy gives me a beaming smile and then turns to Draco.

 ‘You’ve _got_ to come and see my new room Cousin Draco, it’s going to be brilliant!’

 ‘I’d love to Teddy,’ Draco answers him, without looking at me. But I know that little smug smile is meant for me. Bastard.

 As I pull back from the floo to let them through, I sigh and rub my eyes. I should have known it wouldn’t be as easy as that. Nothing ever is. I’ve learned that the hard way.

 I look up when I hear the familiar whooshing sound and first Teddy and then Draco come through. Draco looks stunning. Of course he does. He’s wearing Muggle clothes today, black trousers and a long sleeved grey shirt that fits him perfectly. The material looks lovely and soft and that and the way it’s clinging to his chest, makes my fingers itch to touch it.

 Ignoring me, Draco tells Teddy to lead the way and they traipse up the stairs. Not knowing what else to do, I follow them. I’m only halfway up when I hear the first squeals of delight from Teddy. I smile and quicken my pace, unwilling to miss Teddy’s reaction.

 Teddy has climbed up on his bed and is surveying his room from above when I walk in.

 ‘I love it Uncle Harry! Draco, did you see how high this bed is? And all the colours, did you see those? I love colours!’ he enthuses.

 ‘You don’t say…’ Draco comments dryly, giving the rapidly changing colours of Teddy’s hair a meaningful look. 

 He’s slouched in the doorway, his right shoulder leaning against the wooden frame, forcing me to slip closely past him if I want to come in. When I step past him, his fingers fleetingly brush my wrist. I take a few steps forward, putting some more distance between us and telling myself the touch was accidental. Not that that stops the goose bumps from popping up all over my skin.

 Just then, Teddy spots the swivel chair. He pretty much launches himself off the bed to go to it, jumps in it and starts spinning in dizzying circles. Dizzying for me that is, he doesn’t seem to be having that problem at all.

 ‘Come on. This could take a while’.

 Draco’s sudden words startle me. Before I think it through I’m following him downstairs and into the kitchen.

 ‘Erm… would you like some coffee?’ I ask. I mean, it seems impolite not to offer. Only when I look up at him and see the smirk of epic proportions do I realise my mistake.

 ‘Or tea. Or some water. I think I might have some orange juice left but I’m not sure,’ I ramble mindlessly. 

 The smirk doesn’t waver. 

 ‘I think I’ll stick to coffee thanks,’ he says.

 ‘Right. Ok,’ I say.

 As I make us some coffee, I tell myself to stop being such an idiot. Teddy is right upstairs for fuck’s sake, he’s sure to come down any minute now. But no matter how I scold myself, my heart doesn’t seem to want to beat at a normal pace and it sure feels a lot warmer than normal in here.

 

* * *

**Sunday February 14 th 2004**

 I knew it would be like this and yet I didn’t. 

 We’re in Draco’s enormous tub, easily big enough for the both of us. My back is pressed against his chest, my eyes closed, head falling back on his shoulder. His hands are lathering up my body with the most delicious smelling soap and all I do is lean back, sigh happily, and let him.

 I’ve never been able to give myself up like I can with him. I’ve given myself permission to enjoy this thing between us, not worry about where this is going, what it means, will I get hurt, will _he_ get hurt… I’m living, right here, right now, as I promised myself I would.

 When his hand slips beneath the water and he takes me in a firm grip, I twist my head to nip at the base of his neck in encouragement. He moves slowly, deliberately, taking his time. He presses hot kisses against the side of my face, my jaw, my neck, as his hand moves up and down my cock. When he traces the thick vein at the base with his thumb, I arch my back and moan his name.

 ‘Draco…’

 I don’t have to turn my head or open my eyes to know that he’s smirking. The smugness is radiating off him, but I can’t find it in myself to care. Not when he touches me like this, makes me feel so fucking _good_.

 I groan in protest as he lets go of me and scrambles to his feet.

 ‘Draaaacoooo’ I complain.

 I open my eyes and look up to see him smile. He steps out of the tub with annoying grace, reaches for one of the fluffy white towels and starts drying himself off. He takes his time with it, knows I’m watching him, because I can’t not. Then he reaches out a hand, and when I grab it, yanks me up with a bit more force than necessary. My exit of the tub is a lot less elegant and a lot more clumsy than his, but I don’t complain.

 Because I’ve seen the warm look in his eyes, the seductive smile on his lips, that promises me he is up to no good. Which is perfectly alright by me.

 ‘Come to bed?’ he asks, releasing my hand and tossing me a towel.

 ‘Yeah,’ I respond, without hesitation. 

 Draco rewards me with one of those stunning smiles of his, the kind that lights a fire in my belly and makes my head spin. He exits the bathroom and I quickly dry myself and follow him into the adjacent bedroom, the one that we’ve spent quite a bit of time in this week.

 He’s lying in the middle of his huge bed, big enough to fit at least four other people comfortably. My feet stop moving and I swallow. The mere thought of other people in Draco’s bed, makes me feel ill. I’m being ridiculous and I know it. I have no reason to be jealous. This thing with Draco, it’s fantastic, but it is what it is. Instead of worrying about the future, I’m going to enjoy it while it lasts.

 ‘What’s wrong?’ he asks me.

 There’s a touch of uncertainty to his voice when he asks that, and all of a sudden his nakedness makes him look almost vulnerable. 

 ‘Nothing. Nothing…’ I’m quick to reassure him.

 I rush over and climb into bed with him. He looks at me, searching for what I don’t know. I’m not sure what to say, all I’m aware of are the butterflies fluttering around in my belly and the loud thumping of my heart. It’s then I realise just exactly how deep I’m in this. I’m on the brink of panicking, my breaths coming quick and shallow, my mind racing as I start worrying about what this all means. In other words, I do exactly what I swore I wouldn’t do.

 ‘Look at me,’ Draco says, his voice so steady and demanding that I obey him without thinking and open my eyes. I hadn’t even realised I’d closed them. His eyes fasten on mine and immediately I feel myself calm down. My breath quietens and I can think somewhat clearly again.

 He smiles at me and says: ‘You worry too much’.

 ‘Yes,’ I agree.

 He rolls me on my back and pins me down on the bed.

 ‘You need to stop that, right now,’ he says, doing his best to sound stern.

 ‘I will,’ I promise, meaning it.

 ‘Good. Now shut up and let me kiss you’.

 I look up at him and say nothing. He makes a pleased little sound, right before he covers my mouth with his and gives  me a languid kiss.

 I sigh, relaxing into the kiss until I feel boneless and almost fluid with warmth and a slow burning desire. 

 I love the way he touches me. Gentle, almost innocent touches at first. Just a hand to my cheek, a soft caress of my shoulder blade, my arm. But gradually his touches become bolder, building up in intensity as his hands move down my body. I wriggle restlessly underneath him as his hands slip under my body to slide down my back and grab my arse. I can’t lay still, can’t stay passive while he sets every one of my nerve endings on fire.

 It takes me an embarrassingly long time to realise that actually, no one’s asking me not to move now are they. Merlin, I can’t seem to _think_ when he’s near me, touching me.

 My body seems to have grasped the idea before my head does, because I feel the soft skin of his back underneath my fingertips before I’ve made a conscious decision to go ahead and do some exploring of my own. He mumbles something that sounds approving and I bury one hand in his silky hair and let the other one slip down toward his arse.

 Draco releases my mouth and starts pressing kisses along my jawline, my neck, and then down my chest.

 ‘Yes…’ is all I say, and ‘please…’

  He makes his way down slowly, agonisingly slow, I’m fairly certain he’s trying to kill me. I’m about to state as much, in between gasps and quick panting breaths, when all of a sudden he’s right there. Without further delay, he guides my cock with his hand and I feel his hot, wet mouth surrounding me.

 Merlin he’s good at this. His talented mouth is working me, sometimes sucking hard, then lapping gently for a bit before sucking harshly again. His tongue wreaks havoc on my nerves, flicking, darting, lapping in turn. He sets up a steady pace, his head bobbing up and down in quick, determined motions.

 ‘Oh God yes… Draco, please, yes… ‘

 I’m not sure what else I’m babbling, nothing coherent I’m sure. I turn myself all the way on my back and do my very best not to buck up into that wicked, talented mouth. 

 Draco settles himself more comfortably half on top of me and flicks his eyes up and looks. That is all it takes. Before I know it, I’m coming hard, it’s as if Draco has ripped the orgasm from me by force. He keeps me pinned down to the bed as my body convulses, my back arching and my hips now bucking seemingly of their own volition. 

 I’m panting, my heart is thumping and my head is a strange mixture of dazed and perfectly clear. Clear enough to form thoughts, but too dazed to stop and _think_ before I let them spill out.

 ‘Merlin Draco, that was amazing… You, I mean, _you_ are amazing. I love what you do to me, love how you take my mind of everything else, love how I can let go with you, love it, you…’ I ramble.

 As soon as my brain catches up with my tongue, I want to kick myself. What am I doing, talking like this? I _know_ what this is, this thing between Draco and me. I mean, I’ve seen the pictures in The Prophet, a different witch or wizard on Draco’s arm every couple of months. This relationship, no, this _thing_ between us, is about the here and now, it has no place for words like love. And I just came dangerously close to telling Draco Malfoy that I love him.

 He looks at me while I’m panicking, hesitates for a moment, looking pensive. Then he opens his mouth and whatever he’s about to say, I don’t want to hear it. I’m scared shitless, afraid that whatever he’ll say, whatever I say, it’ll ruin this thing we’ve started. And before anything else, I _know_ I don’t want this to end. I’m not ready. I ignore this aching feeling in my stomach that hints at something else that I don’t want to know. That it’s very possible that I might  neverbe ready for this to end. 

 I can’t believe how quickly Draco has become a vital part of my life. This was supposed to be about fun, about enjoying myself, enjoying life. I hadn’t realised how addictive that feeling can be…. Oh, fuck it, how addictive Draco is.

 ‘Harry…’ he starts.

 All I know in this moment is that I cannot, absolutely cannot let him speak. So I do the only thing I can think of. I kiss him, kiss him with all that I am.

 He half-heartedly tries to stop me, tries to pull away from me, but before long he’s sighing and giving into me. I roll us over, so that I can pin him down while I continue kissing him less desperately now, but just as thoroughly. I can feel his body relaxing under me, his arms curling around my neck, pulling me closer. 

  _Thank God_ , I think over and over again. _I still have him. I still have him for now_.

 

* * *

**Friday April 30 th 2004**

‘And I’ll have a baked potato with that please, some chips, couple of onion rings… oh yes, and some extra garlic bread of course’.

 Hermione’s appalled face whenever Ron is let loose on a Muggle lunch menu is priceless. 

 ‘Ron!’ she scolds him.

 ‘What?’ he asks, looking puzzled. Then he sighs and addresses the waitress in a conspiring tone: ‘Better add a salad to that’.

 Hermione rolls her eyes and mutters: ‘Yes, because _that_ was my point’.

 I grin, enjoying the familiar feeling of being out with my friends, even if it is for lunch instead of Friday night drinks. 

 We fall into an easy pattern of chatting, playful arguing and a spot of teasing. The food is simple but good, although a bit on the greasy side, something Ron appreciates more than enough for the three of us. How he’s not fat baffles me, must be the job. I do remember the physical exertion of being a field Auror, that must have something to do with it.

 About halfway through the meal, Ron clears his throat and says: ‘So, mate, this was fun. It’s great to be out like this, isn’t it? I mean, you know we both love Teddy and love hanging out with him, but it’s nice to be with just us grownups once in a while, right?’

 ‘Sure,’ I answer cautiously. I have a feeling I know where this is going.

 ‘Well good! You know, Mum wouldn’t mind having Teddy for a bit longer. And with Charlie being over from Romania, you know it’ll be impossible to drag Teddy away from The Burrow anyway, the boy loves hearing about the dragons, all kids do,’ Ron insists.

 ‘Hmmmm…’ is my only response. Oh yes, I definitely know where this is going.

 ‘So… you might as well join us after work for a couple of drinks down the pub, like we used to. May as well make the most of it while you have your hands free,’ Ron finishes, blinking innocently and trying his best to sound casual. Trying, and failing epically. 

 And that’s how I end up here a few hours later, at the Leaky Cauldron, nursing a single glass of firewhiskey and trying not to stare at Draco. Draco, who’s sitting across from me, as if nothing has changed. He’s talking to Hermione, talking about work I think, I don’t know. All I know is that this feels wrong.

 I’m not supposed to be here, not supposed to be out for Friday-after-work-drinks, not supposed to be with Hermione, Ron and _Draco_ of all people. I’m supposed to be home, with Teddy, reading him a bedtime story before tucking him in and watching him drift off to sleep. It doesn’t feel right not to be there, to know Teddy is still over at Mrs Weasley’s house. Even if I did go and check on him. Even if I did see with my very own eyes what a great time he was having, pleading with Charlie to tell him story after story. 

 He’s fine, absolutely fine. It’s _me_ who’s not. 

 It’s not that I don’t want to be here. It’s that I _do_. And I don’t know how to deal with that.

 ‘… isn’t it Harry?’

 Fuck. Ron is looking at me, clearly expecting some sort of response. And I’ve got nothing. Because I have no idea what they’ve been talking about.

 ‘Erm… yes?’ I try.

 Ron beams at me.

 ‘See? It’s not just me who thinks the Cannons are going to have their breakthrough year this year. Harry agrees with me’, he proclaims, looking smug.

 But not as smug as Draco does. I look at him and can just tell he knows. He knows I’ve been gawking at him, even though he’s barely looked at me all evening. He knows I haven’t been concentrating on the conversation, because I’ve been too busy drinking in the sight of him. He doesn’t look at me. He doesn’t have to.

 This clearly isn’t working. Throwing caution to the wind, I throw back the one pathetic firewhiskey I’ve been not-drinking, and head over to the bar to get a round of drinks, ordering myself two for good measure. I gulp back one and take the others back to our table. 

 It isn’t until I’ve sat down that I notice. Even though I’m sitting in the same chair I was before, the others must have rearranged their seating while I was at the bar, because suddenly Draco isn’t sitting across from me. No, now he’s sitting _right next to me_. Because they’re trying to kill me, that’s why. I glare at Ron and Hermione, but of course they’re studiously ignoring me and apparently wrapped up in a very private conversation. Of course they are. Ron barely even flinches when I kick at his ankles viciously. Bastard.

 ‘Soooo…’

 Draco startles me. I look up to see I have his undivided attention now. My breath catches at the intensity of it.

 When I don’t reply promptly enough, he sighs and says: ‘So how have you been Harry?’

 A simple enough question really, one I should be able to answer without any difficulty. But what can I say? 

  _Perfectly fine, thank you_? Except that would be a blatant lie and one I’d have no hope pulling off. _Miserable without you_? I certainly have been at times, but there’s no way I’m telling him that.

 Finally, I settle on the blandness of: ‘Alright. You?’

 The look he gives me tells me I’m not fooling him for a second. I can see he’s about to say something, but then he pauses and his look becomes… almost calculating.

 ‘You know that new girl at work I told you about? Emily?’ he asks me.

 ‘Not really,’ I answer, wondering what the hell this is about.

 ‘Huh. I could have sworn I told you about her. She’s a lovely girl, very pretty. Hermione thinks she’s got a bit of a thing for me’.

 Sweet Merlin, I don’t need to hear this. I quickly gulp down my drink and down Draco’s too because I might as well.

 ‘Oh look at that, I’d better get us a new round’, I announce loudly. ‘Same for everyone?’

 I almost run over to the bar without waiting for an answer. 

  

* * *

**Friday June 13 th 2003**

‘Right. So you all know Draco here. He’s buying, so what’ll you have?’

 Hermione looks first at Ron, then me, then Neville and Dean who’ve joined our usual group of three today. Ron looks like he’s about to protest, but he quickly sees sense. Hermione’s tone, her look, her whole body language is screaming determination. 

 Neville, as always the first to smooth things over, recovers first.

 ‘Er… I’ll have a butterbeer thanks’, he says, smiling cautiously.

 Dean, never one to hold a grudge, is quick to follow.

 ‘Make that two mate’.

 I look at Ron, who’s staring sulkily at the empty glass in front of him. It’s an unusually hot Spring day, and the butterbeer has been flowing steadily all afternoon. Taking pity on him, I suggest: ‘Why not make it a round of butterbeer for the whole table Malfoy’.

 The poor bloke looks a bit startled to be addressed fairly politely by a bunch of former Gryffindors. He recovers quickly enough, nods his assent and heads over to the bar to place our orders.

 ‘What the bloody hell did you bring _him_ here for!’ Ron hisses at Hermione as soon as Malfoy is out of earshot. Though observing the little flinch of his back, I’m guessing not as out of earshot as intended.

 ‘Language,’ Hermione sniffs. There’s not much force behind the scolding. I’m guessing she’s given up on trying to correct that particular bad habit. 

 ‘Anyway,’ she continues, ‘you knew I’d bring him, I told you I would’.

 ‘Didn’t think you were serious. Why on earth would you ruin a perfectly good Friday night by bringing that git along?’ Ron complains tragically. 

 ‘I told you, he’s alright. He apologised to me and everything,’ Hermione says, doing her best to sound patient.  ‘He gets on well with everyone, including the Muggleborns. He’s changed. Grown up’.

 At those last words, she eyes Ron meaningfully. Of course he’s too busy sulking to notice.

 I eye Malfoy’s back dubiously as he waits for Tom to fill our order. Granted, he doesn’t _look_ the same, not exactly. I mean he’s still blond, still slender, still looks every inch the Pureblood aristocrat that he is. But he’s no longer pointy and he doesn’t look like he’s got a giant stick permanently stuck up his arse. And if Hermione likes him, well… I guess I could him a chance.

 And that’s what I tell her. Dean and Neville are quick to agree, leaving Hermione beaming and ignoring Ron’s betrayed look along with the rest of us.

 It’s not until the third round of butterbeers that I get a chance to talk to this “new” Malfoy. He’s been mostly quiet, answering a question whenever someone (Hermione) asks him something.

 ‘So, Malfoy…’ I start. It takes me half a second to realise I have absolutely no idea what to talk to him about. Flushing, I throw out the only thing I can come up with. ‘Erm… How’s work?’

 Malfoy looks a bit startled, but he smooths out his features quickly enough and gives me a polite, nondescript answer. ‘Work is fine Potter. How’s yours?’

 ‘Non-existent actually. I quit the Aurors this afternoon,’ I tell him. I have no idea why I’ve just told him that. I haven’t even told any of the others yet. 

 Malfoy looks just about as surprised as I am.

 ‘You’re not serious,’ he states. 

 ‘I’m afraid I am,’ I counter.

 He looks at me, an intense sort of look that lasts a little bit longer than feels comfortable. 

 ‘May I ask why?’

 I shrug. 

 ‘You can ask, not sure if I can give you a satisfactory answer,’ I admit. ‘The short version is that I’d had enough’.

 ‘What about the long version? I have time,’ he says. And then he smiles and says: ‘And it looks like you have too’.

 

* * *

**Saturday May 1 st 2004**

When I wake up, I have a disgusting taste in my mouth and my head is pounding. Or, scratch that, there’s a pounding both inside _and_ outside my head. Groaning, I heave myself up out of bed and stumble my way to the front door.

 ‘What!” I snarl, as I fling the door wide open.

 The person at the other end of the door is not impressed. My heart stops as I realise it’s him, Draco, staring at me as if I’m something he just scraped off the sole of his shoe.

 ‘Care to let me in, Potter?’ he asks me in the most painstakingly polite voice I’ve ever heard him use.

 ‘Whatever,’ I grumble, making an indistinct movement with my hand that is meant to indicate he can come in. ‘So I guess it’s back to Potter now, is it?’

 I scowl at him as he gives me a meaningful glance, taking me in from head to toe in one fluid motion.

 ‘It is right now, certainly,’ he says. ‘Here. Take it Potter, I don’t have all day’.

 Confused, I look back at him and see him holding out a bottle filled with a clear potion.

 ‘What’s that?’ I ask, eying the potion bottle with suspicion. 

 Draco sighs.

 ‘It’s a hangover potion you idiot. Now take it. We need to talk, and I need you to have a clear head for this’.

 Grumbling, I take the bottle from his hand and down it in one go. There’s this distant inkling of a feeling telling me this isn’t supposed to be happening, but I ignore it. Frankly, all I care about right now is for this blasted headache to disappear, which it does almost instantly.

 I close my eyes, heaving a sigh of relief. When I open my eyes and smile at Draco, it takes me a good 5 seconds to realise just what is wrong with this picture. Draco. Is _here_. Demanding to _talk_. This is so not good…

 ‘Erm..’ I start, all the while scrambling around my brain for any kind of excuse to get him the fuck _out of here_.

 ‘Oh no you don’t’, Draco says. It’s the steely determination in both his eyes and his voice that stops me in my tracks.

 ‘We’re going to talk,’ he states calmly. 

 ‘I… erm, I’m not sure that is such a good idea Draco,’ I try cautiously.

 ‘Oh really? _You_ don’t think that’s a “such a good idea”? Well bite me Potter. We’re going to talk whether you like it or not. And seeing as this might take a while, I’m going to go ahead and sit down for this’.

 He doesn’t look at me as he stalks past me and plonks himself down on the squishy armchair near the fireplace. 

 It doesn’t look as if I’ll be able to avoid this any longer. Finding my inner Gryffindor, I brace myself, take a deep breath and join him. I lower myself onto the sofa, keeping a safe distance – and a coffee table- between us.

 ‘I’m not sure what we have to talk about Draco. I’m sorry, you know I am. I’ve _told_ you I’m sorry. What else is there to say?’ I ask, trying to sound reasonable. Seeing as we’re apparently doing this, might as well get it over with.

 ‘Excuse me? Did you just ask me what _else_ there is to say?’ Draco asks, his voice dripping with a mixture of suppressed anger and incredulity. 

 ‘I’d say there’s _plenty_ more to be said actually, seeing as you’ve said fuck all so far!’ he continues, the anger now building to a full blown rage.

 I try to interject, try and say something, but he doesn’t give me any opportunity.

 ‘Do you have _any_ idea what it’s been like for me? Do you? One day you’re all over me, acting like you might even care about me, want to be with me, share things, enjoy life, each other. And then suddenly, nothing??’  

 He’s almost screaming now, his pale skin flushed with anger, his breathing heavy and his eyes burning. _Beautiful_ , my unhelpful brain is quick to point out.

 ‘I did firecall…’ I try.

 He sneers at me and says: ‘Oh yes, I’m sorry, you _fire-called_ me. That’s alright than isn’t it. You fire-call me for about 5 minutes, tell me my Aunt has died, that you now have custody of my cousin and oh yes, of course that means we can no longer be together. What the fuck _was_ that Potter?’

 I cringe when I hear him practically spit my name, the way he used to, back when we were at Hogwarts.  I don’t like it. I don’t like it one bit.

 ‘I didn’t want to make it any harder than it already was,’ I try to explain. ‘It was difficult, but drawing it out would have been more painful in the end. I thought it best to make a clean break’.

 I’ve barely finished my sentence when he jumps up from his chair, avoids the coffee table and within an instant is leaning over me. I can tell he’s seething, so angry that he can’t seem to find the words to speak. He breathes hard, grabs me by the shoulders and looks down at me with fire in his eyes.

 I don’t know what to do. It’s like I’m frozen to the spot. 

 Suddenly, his anger seems to deflate. He lets go of me and flops down next to me. We sit in silence like that, for a good five minutes or so. 

 I have no idea what to say. For the first time since all this happened, it occurs to me that I might have made a mistake. A rather big one. He was _so_ angry just now, and so hurt…

 I caused that. 

 ‘Why did you break up with me?’

 His voice is quiet when he asks that question. He doesn’t look at me. His head is in his hands, his elbows leaning on his thighs. He looks… defeated. It’s killing me to see him like this. 

 I say the first thing that comes to my mind: ‘Because I had to’.

 He lifts his head and looks at me. The grief in his eyes shocks me. I had no idea, no idea that I was capable of hurting him like this. That he cared enough about me to be hurt like this. My head is all over the place.

 ‘Why? Why did you have to? I don’t understand,’ he says. 

 I owe him an explanation, that much is clear. But what seemed so crystal clear in my head all this time, suddenly doesn’t seem all that convincing to me anymore. Seeing as I have nothing else to offer, I go ahead and  say it anyway.

 ‘You and me, what we had, I knew what it was. And what it wasn’t,’ I tell him.

 He snorts and says: ‘That might make sense in _your_ head Harry, but it means nothing to me’.

 My stomach gives a little flutter at hearing him call me Harry again. For some reason this gives me hope. Hope that I was mistaken, that he cares enough, could care enough… I bite down and swallow hard. _Stop letting your imagination run away with you Harry_ , I tell myself. It seems like I’ve been doing quite enough of that lately.

 ‘Well,’ I try, ‘I thought… I mean, when I first asked you out, I knew we could have a good time together, but I was sure it would never be anything serious’.

 His features freeze over and he says: ‘So what you’re basically saying is that I was only ever going to be some sort of _fling_ for you? I mean, it’s _fine_ for the Chosen One to have a little fun with the ex-Death Eater scum, but Merlin forbid that he would ever get _serious_ about the poor sod’.

 ‘What? No, Draco, no! What are you talking about? That isn’t what I meant at all! No, I meant you, Draco. The Prophet made it look like you were dating another witch or wizard every other week or so. What was I supposed to think?’ I ramble, trying to explain myself.

 Draco just looks at me for a moment. Then he says: ‘Wait. Hang on. You… _you_ are taking the word of _The Prophet_? Are you serious? You mean the same rag that accused you of being “The Next Dark Lord” one day, and called you “Our Tragic, Heroic Saviour” the next? That had you sprouting illegitimate babies with Merlin knows how many women if they weren’t busily speculating about your “Love Triangle” with Granger and Weasley? Or my personal favourite, the saga of how “the Boy Who Lived” must have had some Magical Creature blood running through his veins, considering the possibilities of Goblin, Veela and _House Elf_ for fucks sake? _That_ Prophet?’

 Right. Ok. 

 I try and stop myself from flushing but it’s to no avail. The more I think about it, the more I realise that instead of making a “rather big mistake” what I’ve actually managed to do is make a complete arse out of myself. As Ron and Hermione have been trying to tell me. As I’m sure Draco would have told me if I’d given him the chance.

 ‘Well?’

 His voice shakes me out of my thoughts. I look at him to see him look back, clearly expecting some sort of explanation. I have nothing.

 ‘I… I don’t know what to say,’ is all I can manage.

 He closes his eyes and takes a steadying breath. When he opens his eyes again he looks straight at me and says: ‘Not good enough Potter. Now talk’.

 It’s clear that he’s not going to take no for an answer. And seeing as I’m clearly the one that has messed up here, the least I can do is try and explain myself, as much as I can anyway. So I start talking.

 I tell him about that first night that Hermione brought him to Friday night drinks and how he wasn’t at all what I expected. I tell  him how I got to like and admire him over the next couple of weeks and how attractive I found him. I remind him how I had just quit my job at the time and I wanted to learn to enjoy life and how I knew he’d be able to help me with that.

 ‘I was so happy when you agreed to go out with me, you have no idea,’ I tell him.  ‘But you see, I had this image in my head about who you were, because of the Prophet…’

 He visibly bristles and I can tell he’s about to interrupt, so I quickly go on: ‘No, alright, I know now that that was stupid alright? Really stupid, I get it, really I do. I guess… well I suppose it just fitted with my image of you because you always seemed so, I don’t know, unattainable maybe?’

 I shrug helplessly. He gives me a pensive look, but doesn’t speak. I take a deep breath and continue: ‘As you may have noticed, I don’t always think things through as well as I should’.

 He snorts at that and says: ‘Understatement much Potter?’ 

 He shakes his head and goes on: ‘I know I can come across as distant sometimes, I _know_ that. But Harry, couldn’t you tell that that changed after we started seeing more and more of each other? Are you really that blind?’

 Again I feel myself flush.

 ‘I guess I didn’t dare believe it,’ I admit. ‘I was falling hard for you, falling in love even though I told myself I shouldn’t. I didn’t want to get my hopes up because I thought you could never return those feelings’.

 He blinks as if startled. 

 ‘Do you realise how incredibly _shallow_ that makes me sound?’ he asks.

 I groan and barely resist the urge to bury my head in my hands.

 ‘I seem to be making things worse no matter what I do or don’t say,’ I mumble, feeling defeated. ‘The truth is I love you, fell in love with you  and never wanted to let you go. But then this thing with Teddy happened and I just assumed you wouldn’t want to be saddled with a child. And alright, I realise now that I was a total idiot for assuming _anything_ and not talking to you like any sane person would have. If I could go back and start over, I would. But I can’t. And I don’t know what to do now’.

 I feel miserable. I’ve fucked up before, in fact, it’s one of my specialities. But this is big, even for me. So much is riding on this, and I have no idea what to do, how to make this ok.

 ‘You could start by asking me now’.

 ‘What?’ I ask. 

 He sighs.

 ‘Do I need to spell it out for you Harry?’ Then he shakes his head and continues: ‘Never mind, forget I said that. You just concluded that you should have _asked_ me how I felt. About Teddy. About you. What _I_ wanted. You didn’t before. So do it now, that’s what I’m saying’.

 He looks at me expectantly. 

 I swallow, suddenly feeling incredibly nervous.

 ‘What do you want Draco?’ I ask, quickly, before I lose my nerve.

 He smiles at me.

 ‘You Harry, that’s what I want,’ he says simply.

 My heart skips a couple of beats as silence hangs between us. Is this really happening? Is this… 

  _Oh, to hell with thinking_ , I admonish myself. This is about what Draco wants, and what _I_ want. And what I want right now is to kiss him. So I do.

 I grab his shirt and pull him close. Then I kiss him.

 Straight away I’m lost. The sensation of having him this close to me again, it’s too much and yet it can never be enough. He groans as our tongues meet for a lazy but heady dance that leaves me panting and lightheaded. His fingers bury themselves in my hair as I slip my arms around his waist and pull him so close he’s practically on my lap. 

 It’s much too soon when he pulls away, but I know it’s that or die of asphyxiation. I let my forehead rest against his as I try and steady my breath. He’s still so close to me, I can feel his hot, soft breaths against my lips. I smile, gripping him tighter with no intention of letting him go.

 He chuckles and says: ‘You do know we could have been doing this all this time if you hadn’t been such an oblivious,  self-sacrificing Gryffindor idiot, right?’

 I smile ruefully. And then I remember. I pull back a bit, look at Draco and ask the one thing I haven’t asked yet. The thing I _should_ have asked first really, but I’m done making assumptions, done punishing myself. 

 ‘What about Teddy?’

 He nods, as if he’s been expecting me to ask.

 ‘Look,’ he starts, ‘I’d be lying if I said I’d been thinking about, let alone planning, having a family with you anytime soon Harry. But that isn’t really the point, is it? That boy needs a home, someone to love him, take care of him, of course he does. I love you for wanting to be that person Harry. And have you forgot that he’s my _cousin_ for Merlin’s sake? Of course I’m ok with you taking him in. Besides, I think he’s rather brilliant’.

 I laugh and say: ‘Well of course he is. He’s related to you isn’t he?’

 ‘And don’t you forget it Potter’ he sniffs, giving me one of his haughty Malfoy looks.

 Unable to stop myself, I lift my hand to cup his face and kiss him softly. Draco sighs contentedly and lets himself sink into the kiss. 

 It’s long minutes before we come up for air. When we finally do, I ask him: ‘So… am I forgiven yet?’

 He looks at me considering. 

 ‘Hmmm, I don’t know. You _were_ really stupid you know. I’m not sure a couple of kisses, brilliant as they may be,  is enough to make up for that. Then again, perhaps you weren’t the only one being stupid here’.

 He’s barely finished speaking when his words seem to hit us both at once. He instantly tries to scramble up and take it back. But I’m not having it.

 ‘Oh no you don’t,’ I say, tightening my hold on him and lifting his chin in order to try and force him to look at me. Reluctantly, he does. 

 ‘Explain what you mean by that,’ I demand.

 He looks pained, as if he doesn’t want to admit whatever it is he’s done.

 ‘Well,’ he starts hesitantly, ‘perhaps, you know, maybe, I could have asked you how _you_ felt, what _you_ wanted. Erm, or something like that’.

 He looks at me rather shiftily.

 ‘Hey, that’s right! You could have!’ I accuse him. ‘Why didn’t you?’

 He closes his eyes and groans dramatically.

 ‘Are you really going to make me say it?’ he asks, sounding pitiful.

 ‘I believe I am,’ I say solemnly, trying to suppress a smile.

 His eyes fly open and his eyes are full of defiance. 

 ‘All right Harry, fine. I was scared too. Fucking petrified in fact,’ he admits. He rakes his hands through his hair anxiously and bites his bottom lip.

 ‘You were?’ I ask, genuinely surprised. 

 He glares at me for a moment, but then he continues: ‘You took me completely by surprise you know, asking me out the way you did. I mean, I’ll admit I thought you were fit and I liked you once I got to know you. Liked you a lot in fact. But I guess I just assumed you’d never look at _me_ that way. I mean, you’re Harry Potter for fuck’s sake!’

 I clear my throat.

 ‘You… _assumed_?’ I ask innocently.

 He gasps indignantly, but he can’t hide the way his face flushes a deep red.

 I laugh helplessly, can’t stop even when I see his look of indignation grow.

 ‘Shut up Potter!’ he tries, pushing me down until I’m flat on my back and he’s straddling me. 

 All of a sudden, it doesn’t seem so funny anymore.

 ‘Make me?’ I try.

 He attempts to stay serious, but I can see the smile tugging on the corner of his mouth.

 ‘You know what, I just might,’ he says, leaning down and kissing me soundly. I try and wrap my arms around him, but he’s pinning me down, not letting me escape. He pulls back and smirks down at me, making my heart do that silly little fluttering thing it does when he looks at me like that. 

 ‘What time is Teddy due back from Mrs Weasley’s house?’ he asks. 

 ‘Oh not for hours yet,’I tell him. ‘He wanted to stay until Charlie leaves for Romania this evening’.

 Draco gives me a wicked grin that takes my breath away.

 ‘Really? How… interesting’,  he ponders. ‘You know, that might be just enough time for you to make up for being such an idiot.

 ‘That’s excellent news. Any thoughts on how exactly I could go about that?’ I ask semi-casually. 

 ‘Oooh, I think I might,’ Draco says, sounding possibly gleeful. ‘And if you’re lucky, there might even be enough time for me to make some things up to you as well. Only if you’re _very_ lucky mind’.

 The smile on his lips is reflected in his eyes as he leans down and kisses me. Right before his lips touch mine, I whisper: ‘I have a feeling I might just be that lucky’.

 ‘Shut up Potter,’ he whispers back. And then he kisses me.

**Author's Note:**

> Oh wow, I've been working on this story for soooo long! To celebrate finishing it (finally, yay!) I've decided to create an AO3 account and post it here. Hope you've enjoyed my story :)  
> If so, let me know and I'll start posting my other fics.


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